Page 39 of Flake It Til You Make It

Rocco was watching him carefully, while trying to pretend he wasn’t, as he worked the machine for his own coffee.

“So?” he asked. “Is it terrible? You can spit, you know. You don’t have to swallow if you hate it.”

“Maybe I should,” Taylor joked. “God, it’s absolutely fucking terrible, Rocco.”

Disappointment flashed across Rocco’s face. “It’s okay,” he mumbled. “And I’m sorry, I wassosure . . .”

“I’mkidding. It’s really, really good.” Taylor immediately regretted the joke. He hadn’t anticipated how much Rocco would want him to like it, or how much he’d detest that look in his eyes.

“Really?”

It was banished in seconds, replaced by joy.

“It’s different, somehow. Sweeter, yeah, but not fake sweetness, like . . .I don’t know, a cookie my mom used to make. Her famous almond cookies. And it’s not bitter or acidic. Just rich and full and yet super mellow.”

“Well,yeah,I spring for the good beans,” Rocco said. Then elbowed him suddenly in the ribs, laughing, and then Taylor was laughing too, because you couldn’t hear Rocco make that sound of pure delight and not be seduced into joining in. “God, you’re theworst. You had me going there.”

“Yeah, I sure did.”

Rocco smacked him again but this time his hand didn’t move but lingered. Warm and firm against Taylor’s chest. He swayed closer andGod,Taylor would barely have to move to kiss him.He’d just need to tip his head down and get lost in the magical pull of those passionate, dark eyes . . .

He jerked back. Holding the coffee between them like a personal shield.

It would be so easy to let himself have this. Rocco was a thousand times more attractive, inside and out, than Michael, and look how easily Taylor had let Michael lead him.

He couldn’t let that happen again.

Especially not now, when what he’d worked so hard for was finally about to unfold—but only if he played his cards right.

“Uh, sorry,” Rocco said. He gestured towards the kitchen. “You want a bowl to throw your bagged lettuce into?”

“Yeah, that would be great.” Taylor took another drink of the coffee. It wassogood, but really, he wasn’t sure if it was the man or the actual beverage anymore.

Maybe Rocco could have poured him that wretched instant coffee crap and he’d have likedthattoo.

“That’s the latte nobody wanted,” Rocco said casually as he pulled a big metal bowl off one of the shelves stacked with gleaming equipment.

“What? Really?”

“Yep. I kept it on the menu, but God forbid, it’s not pumpkin spice.”

“I’ve never had pumpkin spice, but I can’t imagine it being better than this. Anyone who doesn’t want this is crazy.”

Rocco shot him another one of those brilliant smiles. “Thank you for saying that.”

“It’s just the truth.”

“Let’s make your salad,” Rocco said and Taylor knew he was changing the subject. Wondered if it was his version ofgoat cheese.

If it was, he was going to respect it. “Sure,” he said, grabbing salad ingredients, pulling various things out of the bag.

“Oh, look at you with a fall culinary theme,” Rocco teased.

“This is stuff the lady at the store said would be good,” Taylor said, dumping it all into the bowl. Lettuce. Cucumber chunks. Pumpkin seeds. Dried cranberries. She’d also suggested adding goat cheese crumbles, and Taylor had barely managed to keep a straight face as he’d told her he’d better leave those out.

“It looks great,” Rocco said.

“Yeah, it does,” Taylor said, pleased with himself as he tossed it with the dressing. He hadn’t wanted to slack, even if this was technically just a salad from a bag, not when Rocco was making something delicious from scratch.

---